


so i stayed in the darkness with you

by delicatetobreak



Category: Sucker Punch (2011)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatetobreak/pseuds/delicatetobreak





	so i stayed in the darkness with you

Blondie makes her way down the hall. She peers into the dorms, into the bathroom, even chances a look into the kitchen where the cook is asleep in his chair. She knows even while she’s looking where Amber really is. 

The janitor’s closet at the end of the hall is cramped and dusty and smells of wet rags and bleach but it’s where Blondie finds her (always finds her after each session), curled up in the back next to the shelves. Blondie closes the door behind her and squeezes past the splintering crates and cardboard boxes to reach her. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly as she kneels on the floor. 

Blondie smiles gently at her friend and she tries not to cry. It’s a promise she makes herself after every session. She can cry in the showers later that night or she can cry into her pillow when everybody else is asleep. She can cry anywhere else as long as it’s not in front of Amber because one of them has to be the strong one and Blondie knows it has to be her. The shocks they give her aren't fun but they're not that bad, nowhere near as bad as the ones they give Amber. 

Being strong is the least she can do. 

So Blondie clenches her hands into fists instead, lets her nails bite into her palms to stop the tears from coming, because all she wants to do is cry whenever she sees Amber like this. Amber’s arms are slack in her lap, body listless and slumped over. 

Blondie doesn’t blame her. Her limbs always ache after the sessions and sometimes she gets so sore that she just collapses in the dorms. But it’s what she sees in Amber’s face that makes her heart ache. 

Her gaze is vacant. Dead. Her eyes are empty of their usual spark and her lips are twisted into a frown. The shape of it feels wrong, like a mistake, because Amber’s mouth wasn’t made for sadness. Blondie knows because whenever Amber smiles at her, she feels it, warm like sunshine on her skin. 

Blondie reaches out and takes Amber’s hands in her own, tries not to let them tremble when Amber looks up at her, broken and confused. 

“Blondie?” Amber’s voice is small and Blondie smiles weakly, squeezes her hands encouragingly. 

The dazed look on Amber’s face makes Blondie’s heart sink. Blondie knows she should be used to it now, to the cloud of confusion that claims them both after every session. She’s always been able to get Amber to snap out of them but lately it's taken her longer and longer. 

Blondie swallows hard, “I’m here, I’m right here.” 

She reaches up to cup Amber’s cheek and Amber leans into her touch, hesitantly. 

“I’m here,” Blondie’s voice cracks. 

And she kisses her, gently, hands shaking with restraint, with hopelessness, with the need to make Amber remember, oh god, please remember. Blondie’s almost ready to give up when she feels hands abruptly grip the collar of her shirt and Amber’s kissing her back. 

Blondie’s fingers scramble desperately for purchase (they run up Amber’s back, pulling her closer, tangle themselves in Amber’s hair, grasp a fistful of Amber’s shirt) and the hum of her body pressed against hers feels like a promise. When they pull apart, Blondie’s reluctant to let go. She closes her eyes briefly and exhales shakily. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” she breathes and maybe it’s because it’s her first show of weakness or maybe it’s because of the way her relief is laced with fear but Amber crumples. Blondie sinks to the ground and pulls Amber into her lap. 

“I’m scared,” Amber sobs and Blondie strokes her hair, wipes away the tears, bows her head so she can soothe Amber’s forehead with a kiss. Her fingers find the places where they placed the electrodes and she squeezes her eyes shut so she won't cry. She's only ever disappeared once the way Amber does and she knows how scary it is, the weight of the confusion, the disorientation of oblivion. 

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Blondie murmurs. “It’s going to be alright.” But it isn’t and it won’t be. Every time Blondie coaxes Amber back to life, she wonders if it’ll be the last. If the next time she finds her like this, she’ll be powerless because she’s lost Amber for good. 

“Gonna be alright,” Amber repeats faintly. In the quiet of the closet, in the sacred space between their bodies, it almost sounds like the truth. 

Blondie holds her tight.


End file.
